


Life's Little Mysteries

by inoru_no_hoshi



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Swearing, drunk!sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inoru_no_hoshi/pseuds/inoru_no_hoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe someday he'll ask how, 'cause why is just <em>really fucking obvious</em>. He'll probably forget, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's Little Mysteries

**Author's Note:**

> Written veeery early on in my Glamfic career, which I think definitively places it in October 2010.
> 
> Written for the prompt _On top of high equipment/furniture/etc!_ on [teamcockbert's Fic Meme: 101 Places to Fornicate](http://community.livejournal.com/teamcockbert/23290.html).

Tommy mostly remembered how the evening had gone. Mostly.

Coming over 'cause Mike and Dave are totally being shits, and anyway Adam had said, "Welcome anytime, baby," so he figured he'd take him at his word was clearly the first step. He'd decided to be a good guest and bring a gift - a couple bottles of slightly pricey alcohol, because Adam mixed drinks like his name should've been God, and a man gets tired of just beer sometimes. _Sometimes_. Banging on the door, then remembering his spare key and just letting himself in, 'cause, again, motherfucking invitation.

Dinner, which after an argument that maybe got a little juvenile, was a compromise between his junk food craving and Adam's insistence on healthy foods, which ends up being okay, so whatever. And then Adam had taken to making drinks, not really letting either of their glasses get even fucking half empty. He knew they'd talked, probably about whatever the fuck came to mind, and then things start getting fuzzy.

It's not like he's _surprised_ it turned into sex, 'cause fuck, it's Adam and him and it isn't all just stageplay (and he kinda thinks that maybe he'd fucking cry if it was, but you didn't hear that from him).

It's just...

Tommy would kinda like to know why the fuck he's sitting on top of the motherfucking fridge, bent backwards over Adam's arm while Adam perches precariously on the counter and kisses him like he's the best thing Adam's ever tasted.

Actually, strike that. He knows why - kinda hard to miss _that_ bit when Adam's free hand is totally slicked with fucking _vegetable oil_ (and, God, really? And why did Adam even have any, why not one of the healthier oils, fucking oxymoron that _that_ was?) and working his ass open.

He'd really just like to know _how_ the fuck he ended up sitting on top of the motherfucking fridge, because, yeah, he's still kinda fuzzy on that part.

But he can't really find the strength to actually _care_ enough to ask, because what's more fucking important - where he's fucked, or that he's being fucked? And distracting Adam right now would be cockblocking _himself_ , so.

Yeah.

Maybe he'll remember to ask later. Maybe.


End file.
